


Two and a Half Sides

by AllYourLoveIsWasted



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Post - Deathly Hallows
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-03 10:35:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllYourLoveIsWasted/pseuds/AllYourLoveIsWasted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Old and carrying a heavy burden, Harry Potter knows its time to expose the truth of the deaths of the "Brightest Witch of Her Age" and the "Slytherin Prince".  From the beginning of this story to the end, their story will be told and Harry proves that their is indeed "Two and a Half" sides to a story: the first two being the Victim and Offender, and the half being the not so innocent Bystander. (*Read the Notes for more details, y'all*)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One~

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know Hermione and Draco are dead, BUT, this whole story except the first and last chapter and maybe, if I feel like being a bitch a few middle chapters, are all about Draco and Hermione's life from the day of the war to the very last breathe they both took. It will all be from third person point of view but, of course, i will be expressing their thoughts as well, y'all. Please dont just mark this off as another "Ew, Draco and Hermione "ghost relationship" or "Ugh, past tense love" because its not. 
> 
> I really hope y'all enjoy this story, it took me awhile to final get the story right in my head and written or typed down actually, so give it a chance, and yes there will also be another "Major Character" death other than Draco and Hermione.
> 
> And here comes the fun part:
> 
> WARNING, ATTENTION Y'ALL: This is actually, despite my cheerfulness, a very dark story. First of all, there are three major character deaths, which by itself is a calamity. Second of all, there is a slight twist on the personalities of the following characters: Harry Potter, will act like a real bastard towards the middle of the story, Ginny Weasley, will be a bitch throughout this whole entire story, Severus Snape, will portray a slight father role for Hermione, and Albus Dumbledore will not be his usual "twinkle-eyed headmaster" rather you will hate him with all your heart. Just because I'm hating on these characters in this story DOES NOT mean I really hate them, y'all. It just fitd with the story so please no crap about this. Next, THERE WILL BE CONSENSUAL RAPE, ADDICTION TO DRINKING/SMOKING/MINOR DRUGS, SELF-HARM, MENTAL ILLNESSES AND HALLUCINATIONS, A WHOLE LOT OF BLOOD, AND MAJOR VIOLENCE SCENES. IF YOU HAVE A WEAK STOMACH OR MIND THIS IS NOT, AND I REPEAT, NOT THE BEST STORY TO READ!!! And the final warning is, I don't care if you hate my writing, I don't care if you hate my story, I don't care if you hate me so, please, don't comment if you don't like. I mean, why waste my time and yours??? Obviously, if you hate it just click back and leave, no one wants to see your idiocy. And if you do have any corrections, concerns, and/or advice, Id love to hear them, y'all. Just please maintain a polite tone, if you will. 
> 
> And that's it, we are done with the warnings and introductions! Thanks for listening and on with the story, y'all!

Present Time: 5:13 AM- Tuesday, March 2, 2011

\-----> You would think that after all these years of sneaking carefully up and down the stairs to gather his text books and other magical things from the Dursleys' not so secret hiding spot , the famous Harry Potter, would be able to silently walk out of the house on this brisk morning. However, the moment our hero placed a foot on the doormat, Ginny Weasley, his beloved wife for over ten years appeared at the foot of the stairs, arms crossed, a flicker of hurt and frustration in her usual bright green eyes.

“Good morning Gin.” He spoke in a whisper, as to not wake the children, while his mouth flashing his white teeth in a small smile, hoping to distract his fiery witch from the fact that he was fully dressed and hand around the doorknob.

“You promised.” Was all Ginny said, her voice loud and even but still holding a slight tremble. 

Harry sighed and ran his hands through his hair while nodding reluctantly in agreement of his part in the “promise”.

“You said no more, that last time was the last time. I even came with you, isn't that enough?” Ginny continued her voice not so calm anymore and much louder.

“Its her birthday, Gin. We used to celebrate it together every morning since we were kids. How can I not go?" He pleaded, green eyes slightly moist and hands held out beseechingly.

“Easy, “Ginny snapped, knocking his hands away, “get your hand off the door and step away. Not that hard I’m sure!” 

At that moment, we take a glance at the abandoned staircase only to meet the curious yet intimidated eyes of the youngest daughter of the two arguing parents. Hands tight around her stuffed, green dragon, which had been, after many years of drool, building mud pies in the backyard, and ink stains, washed until the green color had faded into an ugly shade of vomit-green and little tears adorned the sides, she stood silently, green eyes darting back and forth from her mother to her father, her presence not yet acknowledged. 

“Harry, its been seven years, seven years, Harry! She's gone and you need to let her go. She needs to rest in peace, not shook awake every year on her damned birthday by you, kneeling on your knees, hands gripping her tombstone and tears watering the carnations! Peace, Harry, peace. Let go.” Ginny shouted the toss of her heavy gold adorned hand at the end of each sentence emphasizing her points. The chagrin evident in her sharp tone and the tears running down in a mixture of salt and smudged eyeliner. 

Instead of replying, the former Quidditch player's eyes locked onto the sleepy, wide eyes of the last branch of his full family tree. The chubby cheeked girl blinked rapidly and she trotted with her sock clad feet to her father, hiding behind his leg away from the very angry mommy. Now, we haven't yet been given the name of this young lady, but we can see who she favors. With her green eyes, black wavy hair and deep dimples, she resembles her father in a shocking, feminine way. 

Crouching down, Harry grasped his daughters tiny hand in his big hand and smiled softly at her. 

“Wotcher baby girl, how is my green-eyed dragon feeling?” He asked adoringly, his eyes filled with love. 

The little girl stared at him thoughtfully before saying, “ I'm not too sure, daddy. I feel a lot.” she said, seriously a confused expression on her face. Harry laughed loud and long, while patting her head affectionately.

With another look around we see Ginny, now dry eyed, a sad envious look etched on her still young face. Her arms stiff at her sides and posture defensive yet almost child-like. Like a little boy watching his first Quiditch game. He would be sitting in his seat a little too firmly, afraid of the flying balls and violence of the players but at the same time, a mixture of longing and awe upon his face. 

“Take me too, daddy, “the little girl whispered in her dads ear, on her tiptoes,” please, I want to hear the story.”

harry sobered instantly and asked solemnly, “What makes you think theres a story where Im going, baby girl”

The girl giggled as if her daddy had said something funny and cute. 

“Your funny daddy, theres always a story.” She whispered, squeezing the toy dragon. 

“Harry, dotn even think about it,” Ginny said through clenched teeth, “ I wont have our daughter visitng uneccesary places. Besides, neither of you are going.” 

And thats when the coldness swept in. The Boy Who Lived stood up slowly and locked eyes with his witch. 

“We are going Ginerva, and you might want to watch your tone, its quite cutting and inappropriate.” Harry said icily his fingers hand right around his daughters. The decision was made.

Ginny turned around and walked up the stairs quickly, her expression filled with slight embarrassment and obvious anger. Turning to his daughter, Harry helped her pull on her jacket and boots and they both left the warmth of the house to face the chilly morning outside. 

As they walked, the little girl swung Harry's right arm back and forth while she walked awkwardly trying not to step on the cracks in the pavement. 

“Hey, baby girl? Do you like your name?” Harry asked suddenly, a slight crease of worry in his forehead.

“Mommy says its a weird name and she wishes she could call me a different name.”

“And what do you think?”

“I cant pronounce it, daddy.”

Chuckling, Harry reassured her she will once shew as older. 

“Baby girl, someone special was named just like you.”  
“Like me?”

“Yes, you. She was brave, smart, and very pretty.”

“Can I meet her?”

“Thats where we are going, baby.”

“Then walk faster daddy, I want her to see my dragon.”

“She would love that, I promise she will.”

“Good...maybe she can name my dragon.”

“Maybe she will, or maybe you can name him after we visit.”

“Is that when you'll tell the story, daddy?”

Harry stopped and pushed open the gate of the graveyard decorated with roses. He held his finger to his lips and beckoned the girl over to the grave all the way in the back. The little girl walked forward and knelt to the ground. Her dragon was dropped to the floor as she placed her hands on the cold tomb. Our hero crouched down, again, beside her and whispered in her ear.

“Yes, baby girl thats when I'll tell you the story of Hermione Jean Granger.”

“Is this her?” The little girl asked, tapping the stone of the lid.

When he nodded, the little girl smiled and said, “Daddy says we have to be polite when we meet new people. Wotcher, Hermione Jean Granger. My names Hermione Evans Potter, and this is my dragon. Daddy says you're going to help me name him. 

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and whispered hoarsely, “She says, its nice to meet you and she knows exactly what you should name your dragon,” meeting his daughters anticipating eyes he cleared his throat and said, “Draco, she says name him Draco.” 

The little girl closed her eyes and breathed out, “Draco.” 

*Authors Note: This is an extremely short chapter only because its the first chapter and i want to get a few comments and opinions before I jump into this thing. Im hoping i portrayed Hermione Evans as an intelligent young 8 year old. And yeah, Ginny was insensitive but as I said, it all fits with the story. I hope you enjoyed this, and please please, puh-lease comment about anything you see that needs corrections especially grammar and spelling mistakes. Thanks again, y'all!


	2. Chapter 2~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okaaay, y'all! I didnt get any comments on my story, but i did get a few hits and I kind of like the fact that my first chapter turned out alright which is why Im going to go ahead and continue with it. The second chapter is where the story for Draco and Hermione actually begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, note that the story is quite explicit in its sexual and violent scenes so Harry, in the story, doesnt exactly tell all that to his 8 year old daughter because that would be highly inappropriate, lol. And it may start of as confusing and little dysfunctional but towards the end of the story everything sort of evens out and makes complete sense...hopefully. On to the next chapter, y'all

p>10 years Ago, Hermione's Apartment-Cupboard under the stairs, 11:50 PM

Harry Potter's hands shook as he tried to place the key steadily into the keyhole. Three times it had fallen out of his hands and had fell lightly onto the crimson-colored, carpeted floor. He was nervous, more than nervous. Finally the key clicked into place and he turned it once to the right gently. Immediately, he felt the wards evaporate as he ducked his head to fit. Apparently, Hermione had been expecting him to come here. A huge lump formed in his throat as his recent actions flashed through his mind. Clearing his throat, he thought, It had been years since he'd entered a cupboard under the stairs, he'd gotten way taller since then. Looking carefully around, his eyes landed on something shimmering. Stepping closer he realized, there it was, marked in elegant loopy handwriting: The Memoir of Hermione Jean Granger and her dragon Draco Malfoy, a vial no bigger than his thumb. To think this vial held all that was left of his childhood companion and her star-crossed lover almost made Harry, now a grown man, weep right then and there, but the urgent last words of Hermione, written on a scrap of paper, burned a hole in his pocket, throbbing its importance. So without further ado, he hastily undid the cork and filled it into a bowl. Being Hermione's own creation, only a simple bowl was needed not a Penisieve which saved him a lot of trouble. He let the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile, so typical of Hermione to be prepared. Taking a steady breath and closing his emerald eyes, Harry lowered his face into the clear, cold liquid. 

Hermione Granger POV: 11:59- Girls Dormitory

Her honey-colored eyes were locked onto the old grandfathers clock. 

One...two...three...four...five...

There were three things Hermione Granger was afraid of.

Six...seven...eight...nine...ten...

Number 1, she would one day wake up as a beaver.

Eleven...twelve...thirteen...fourteen... fifteen....

Number 2, failure. 

Sixteen...seventeen...eighteen..nineteen....twenty...

Number 3, death at a young age. 

Twenty-one...twenty-two...twenty three...twenty four...twenty five...

The taunts she had received as a girl about her two abnormally large upper two front teeth as a kid, stuck with her and she did everything in her power to fix that one imperfection on her face.

Twenty-six...twenty seven... twenty eight...twenty nine...thirty...

She was careful to always be punctual, alert, and cautious when it came to everything since she never ever, ever wanted to mess up even over the silliest things. 

Thirty-one...thirty-two...thirty-three...thirty-four...thirty-five...

A full life is everyone’s wish, no one would like to die young. But for her, it was more than simply dying she was afraid of, it was more the concept of dying without accomplishing anything, dying in the most horrid way, and dying for absolutely no reason. 

Thirty-six...thirty-seven...thirty-eight...thirty-nine...forty...

Dont laugh. Everyone's afraid of something. If you aren't, I wonder if you are human, because no human can leave without fear. Its the drive to half our decisions. 

Forty-one...forty-two...forty-three...forty-four...forty-five...

It was then she made her decision. 

Forty-six...forty-seven...forty-eight...forty-nine..fifty...

The moment she walked out of this door,

Fifty-one...fifty-two...fifty-three...fifty-four...fifty-five...

She was going to die after she accomplished something, anything for the greater good, and

Fifty-six...fifty-seven...fifty-eight...fifty-nine...

By the hand of her beloved. 

Sixty. 

The chimes echoed in the silent room, 12 chimes, midnight. Hermione slipped out out of bed, her night gown skimming the floor almost tripping her. Grabbing her wand she spelled herself invisible. Standing by the door she threw one last look over her shoulder. Her dorm mate's six chaotic hair peeked at her from under the Gryfinndor sheets, sound asleep and safe. Its for them and for you that Hermione pushed open the door and made her graceful exit.

Draco Malfoy's POV: 11:59 (Same Time) -Slytherin Common Room 

Draco Malfoy poured himself a glass of brandy. 

Here's to the irony that a month ago, he'd rather die than be seen in such a state: red eyes with bags underneath, pale, sickly looking skin, and hair sticking up in odd places.

Another glass.

Here's to serving a tyrant who shoved all thoughts of elegance away and smashed in their place stealth and responsibility.

Another glass. 

Here's to having no choice.

Another glass.

Here's to doing what you're told the moment you're told.

Another bottle of brandy, another glass.

Here's to instant death at hesitation.

Another glass. 

Here's to dying alone.

Another glass.

Here's to having no one cry at your funeral. 

Another glass. 

Here's to ridiculous offers offered by the headmaster of this shitty place.

Another two glasses. 

Here's to the question: "Do I have the courage to accept it?"

Another two glasses.

Here's to lying and deceiving the one man he was about to swear loyalty and obedience to. 

Another bottle, another two glasses and half. 

Here's to deciding whether or not to sentence himself, with his own hands, to a possible death.

Chimes filled the empty room, it was midnight. If you think Draco is drunk, you should know that 14 glasses of brandy are like one bottle of low fat milk when you've been drunk since the last to summers all day, every day. He rolled his neck, cracking it, before grabbing his wand and striding over to the door. Throwing one last look over his shoulder, he saw the half full brandy bottle. Shrugging, he strode back and gulped it down. Never hurt to be this loose when you're about to get marked by the last person you ever want to see. 

The writer, me, POV: 12:01- Boy's Dormitory

Flashback to First Year of Hogwarts, past Time: 7:00 AM- September 1, 1991 

“Blimey,” said one of the twins. “Are you---?”

“He is,” said the other twin. “Aren't you?” he added to Harry.

“What?” said Harry.

“Harry Potter,”chorused the twins.

“Oh him,” said Harry. “ I mean yes, I am.”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

"Harry," said the other twin, "did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then.” 

"Bye," said Harry and Ron. The twins slid the compartment door shut behind them.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron blurted out. Harry nodded.

"Oh -well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes," said Ron. "And have you really got -- you know..." He pointed at Harry's forehead.

Harry pulled back his bangs to show the lightning scar. Ron stared

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. 

She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," said Ron, but the girl wasn't listening, she was looking at the wand in his hand.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then." She sat down. Ron looked taken aback.

"Er -- all right." He cleared his throat. "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow.” He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" said the girl. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard --I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it  
will be enough -- I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you.” She said all this very fast.

Harry looked at Ron, and was relieved to see by his stunned face that he hadn't learned all the course books by heart either.

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.

"Harry Potter," said Harry.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Three boys entered, and Harry recognized the middle one at once: it was the pale boy from Madam Malkin's robe shop. He was looking at Harry with a lot more interest than he'd shown back in Diagon Alley.

"Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," said Harry. He was looking at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy, they looked like bodyguards.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where Harry was looking. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy looked at him.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families  
are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends  
with the wrong sort. I can help you there." He held out his hand to shake Harry's, but Harry didn't take it.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," he said  
coolly.

Draco Malfoy didn't go red, but a pink tinge appeared in his pale  
cheeks.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Harry Potter's emerald eyes snapped open and locked onto the ceiling of the arched ceiling of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Sitting up slowly, he blinked and rubbed his temples to gather his thoughts. For six years, Harry had never reminisced about his first year at Hogwarts or the first time he'd ever met his faithful friends so it came as quite a surprise to dream about it. Nevertheless, it was a nice dream and it warmed his heart that he still remembered it well although the part about Malfoy put a bitter taste in his mouth. He suspected the pale-faced boy was associated with the enemy. Despite all that, while casting a look around the room a few times, he felt strange. Like something big was going to happen tonight but he had no idea what it was. Shaking his head, he lay back down and allowed his sleepy eyes to shut, re-entering the restful world he was rudely awakened from. Little did he know that something big indeed was happening tonight and it was about to change a few things. 

Ronald Weasley was never the type of guy to believe in bad omens. So when he walked by the open window of the Gryffindor Common Room and a gust of window rattled the window pane, he didnt so much as flinch. However, when he neared the girls dormitory, a sudden chill went down his spine. He turned slowly around in a circle before his eyes locked onto the door of the girls dormitory. It was shut firmly and not a sound was to be heard. Still, Ron walked over and placed his hand lightly on the cold wood. It felt warm, as if it held the warmth of a recent touch by anothers hand. He felt a breeze behind him, and another chill went down his spine but this time he choose to ignore it. Shrugging, he walked up to the boys dormitory unaware that standing by the wooden door was the least person he would expect to be awake at this hour nor did he noticed the solemn look etched upon her face. 

*Authors Note: Yay, Im done with Chapter 2! Y'all can expect Chapter 3 tomorrow or the day after depends on how much other worldly work I have. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this and I hope its more enjoyable than the last. Comment, kudos would be much a appreciated, y'all :)


	3. Chapter 3~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So in this chapter, we are switching the setting from Hogwarts. Its going to be Draco's POV, but i'll add some details for the sake of you readers being able to imagine the scene. But I will warn you y'all there is some blood and death in this chapter, not a lot just a bit, but if you are sensitive to that kind of stuff, you dont have to read this chapter :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kind of late because I finished it but being my stupid scatter-minded idiot I usually am, i delete my whole entire work, y'all. It killed me, I had spent hours on it. Oh well, here is Draco's part, ill post Hermione's tonight or tomorrow, hopefully, y'all.

Draco's POV: 12:03-Malfoy Manor 

"Young Master, Tink has been waiting for you. Your presence is required in the Tea Room." An old house-elf informed him, his voice bland and held no emotion, like the rest of this place. Without even bothering to answer the creature, Draco walked pat him toward the door engraved upon at the very top with the words "Tea Room". Knocking on the door, he heard his father's sharp "Enter". Pushing it open, he stepped through and immediately strange hissing sounds filled the room as the Death Eaters whispered to each other. They were crowded around a single chair who seated in was, in Draco's opinion, the worst man to walk on the Earth. Voldemort sat tall and proud, petting his pet snake Nagini then he lifted one hand to issue silence and as fast as the noise had started it stopped. Draco had the sudden urge to laugh, so he did. Loud and boisterously, the sound echoing in the silent room. His father red-faced with angry grabbed him by the collar and whisper-shouted, "What do you think you're playing at boy?! Have you gone insane?" He shook him by the collar and his father's angry and panicked voice laced with concern for him made him laugh even harder. He tore out of his father's grip and doubled over in laughter, his hands flat against his stomach. 

"Oh, Lucius, let the boy have his fun. You all make this place seem so dreadfully boring. Its nice to see some youthful enjoyment, don't you agree friends?" Voldemort's drawl curled around the room. The Death Eaters nodded and whispered their agreement, there was even a nervous chuckle or two. That did it for Draco, he threw his head back and chortled, tears of laughter falling down his face. The Death Eaters whose name brought fear into every man, women, and child's heart, the ones who killed without blinking, were scared of an old man and his pet snake.

Tilting his head up to the marble ceiling, real tears dripped off his long eyelashes trailing down his chin and across his protruding adam's apple. Is that how he was going to be? That thought sobered him and his laughter slowed to a complete stop. Was he going to blindly follow Voldemort-no, the Dark Lord's wishes and killing off person after person while fear sat on his heart, constricting it? Could he bear to live a life filled with lies to others and himself? 

"Come, dear boy. Come here, Draco." The Dark Lord commanded, breaking Draco's thoughts. However, Draco simply stared in his direction. How far would he make it if he ran out the door? The front gate maybe? He could always Apparate. As if reading his mind, Lucius grabbed his wrist marching him in front of the Dark Lord. 

"Kneel." Lucius said through clenched teeth. Draco kneeled.

A cold hand was on his cheek caressing its way to his chin, Draco shivered. Suddenly the hand gripped his chin and jerked it up forcing Draco's grey eyes to meet crimson. When Voldemort spoke, his voice was low, only for Draco's ears, " So young, eyes sparkling with a thousand feelings. Cheeks pink with effect of liquor and lips red from being bitten on. A chance to make a choice." His grip on his chin tightened to bruising grip. "I never had those things. What I cant have no will have. You will lose many things tonight, but there is only one thing worth weeping over. You'll know it when you lose it." Letting go of his chin, the Dark Lord raised his wand, and addressing his Death Eaters.

"Friends, a new brother will join us tonight, his blood will be split in exchange for my trust. If he betrays this trust, he will suffer a fate worse than death itself by my hand. Give me your hand Draco." With eyes wide and mind cluttered with the Dark Lord's words, he placed his hand in the Dark Lord's, palm up.

Without a moment to prepare himself, Voldemort brought his wand down and began to carve. 

Screams, so many screams in his head, his screams. He was screaming inside his head, eyes wide and fingers curling and uncurling as he tried to wrench free from the hand that was holding him captive. Blood encased his wrist and slid down his arm and off his elbow. It trickled to the carpeted floor like rain, staining the expensive rugs. A cry escaped his mouth as Voldemort's wand carved into a sensitive spot and he could hear his mother in the background, sobbing. Turning his head to her, he held out the blood-free trembling hand and begged hoarsely, "Mother, make it stop." His mother let out loud agonized wail and her frail hands wen up to cove her ears.

"Look here Draco." The Dark Lord's voice brought him back the throbbing pain in his arm. "look how beautifully your young skin splits open. The last man I carved, his skin was so rough, so old." he continued caring more harshly. Water from his tears, blood, black ink, and pieces of pink flesh decorated his wrist and Draco felt himself go numb, almost immune to the pain. His mind blanked and his eyes went back to their original size no longer wide and bugging. His wrist went limp as he accepted his fate and then it stopped, all of it. The room was deathly silent, there was no longer the sound of murmured excitement at his pain, is mother's sobbing was merely hiccups, and the sound of the wand ripping into tender flesh was no more. All Draco could her was the low sound of dripping blood. 

Then, Voldemort began to clap and as he clapped more and more people clapped and the sound vibrated in his ears. A hand was placed on his back and someones was rubbing slow, soothing circles, it was his father. Stepping out of his reach, Draco backed up. Away from the happy clapping crowd, away from the smiling Dark Lord, they were insane all of them but most of all away from the reflection he saw in his father's eyes. 

"Dont forget to come back and claim your prize Draco." the Dark Lord said. 

Voldemort was right when he said he'd lose many things because right now, he was about to lose his lunch.


End file.
